


Basking

by Suchsmallhands



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Creatures & Monsters, Alternate Universe - Dragons, Comfort, Creature Keith, Domestic, Dragons, Fluffy Ending, Home, Hybrid creatures, M/M, One Shot, keith and lance, klance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-07
Updated: 2017-01-21
Packaged: 2018-09-15 10:55:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9231740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Suchsmallhands/pseuds/Suchsmallhands
Summary: A winged and avian Keith spends his afternoons with a warm and human Lance, who is glad to give home to him.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is some weird shit.

Lance sat at the desk under the loft, leaning his elbows against the wood. He typed and read, narrowing eyes at more confusing studies as he worked. The windows next to him let in warming light that kept the flat a regular temperature and gave comfort to dark, sun loved skin.  
The careful study of his course was slowly coming, broken only by the sound of Keith above him in the bedroom where he tinkered and worked on whatever kept his mind occupied when he wasn’t working.  
He was interrupted by the abrupt sound of deft hands and feet climbing over the railing across the loft, followed by the heavy flurry of beating air and wings folding and expanding. Keith landed lightly on the ground in a low position, Lance looking up in time to see the fan of his tail fold and wave in settling attitude.  
Keith’s eyes, pale around his pupils, narrowed on Lance and assessed him. It had been a rather long day and they had not yet greeted each other. Lance left early in the morning and Keith, who held high watch on Lance, hadn’t yet been ready to greet him. Lance knew to settle in and wait while Keith’s indirect behaviors, like many other avians, kept him at bay until the proper time after reuniting to greet.  
It would, after all, seem unusual for Keith to approach him straight away. Perhaps on a different day.  
Keith rose from his crouch and padded towards Lance, too long and serpentine tail swaying behind him without rhythm. The narrowed pupils of his eyes looking him over until Lance gave him a hello nod. Keith’s pupils widened just slightly, he hummed pleasantly and nuzzled his nose against his hair. Lance smiled and still amused at his tendencies, he let himself be nuzzled briefly before returning his own greeting. His hand shuffled without pause into his dark hair to his temple and pet his fingers through the strands, hesitation would have been distasteful to him when he was being finicky.  
It had taken roughly fifteen minutes for Keith to greet him today after being separate for several hours, so he’d say it was a finicky day.  
Keith accepted the touch, eyes lidding partly until the hand retreated. Keith went on about his interests, orbiting around his house mate. He lounged around the couch, foraged for fruits in the kitchen, sat neatly by the window with narrowed pupils and watched the outdoors closely.  
Lance watched on, reuniting his gaze with the thin membrane of his wings. They folded behind him, shifting subtly behind him when he saw a quick movement from the outside. He looked at the sun light and it’s detailing of the color in his wings and the tiny vessels of blood flowing through them. He looked at the heavy muscles around his wings, the capable tail laid behind him.  
He looked closely, until Keith looked sharply at him. Lance rolled his eyes at the testy look in his, not averting his gaze. Instead of miffing him, it seemed to give him a kind of huffy pleasure, looking away from him but not challenging him for staring.  
Many times, Keith could choose to avoid convention and rely solely on intelligence, but frequently he allowed reliance on his instincts. His instincts commonly clashed with human social tendencies and lack of pomp and circumstance, however, Keith didn’t forsake him for it.  
He could, after all, be spending afternoons with another avian who would abide by his behaviors.  
Keith gave him a wrinkled nose and hot look, standing from his point and turning away to hop cunningly onto a soft and wheeled chair. He held onto the back of the chair, sitting on his knees and pushing the chair over to Lance’s side with a foot.  
Lance smiled at him which only increased the miffed glower from his companion, who stopped next to Lance and shifted around on the chair so that his back was to him. He looked over his shoulder at him and released the glowering look, eyes neutral as he lifted an inquiring tail and waved the tip of it over Lance’s thigh.  
He smiled and raised a hand to slide over the shirt on his back. He let his palm smooth over the soft fabric, petting in strokes as Keith rescinded his tail to wrap around his body on the chair and tucked his chin against his own shoulder comfortably. His wings shuffled and parted way for Lance to pet gently.  
Lance pet smoothly before pointing his fingers for a bit, then dragging his nails. Keith’s head lifted at this, wings tightening at the scratching. Eventually it drew a quickly wiggled shiver. This went on considerably before Keith’s tail unwrapped and wiggled into Lance’s lap, worming its great muscle and flexing fans of feather light and soft, soft membrane.  
Lance’s hand slid over his cool scales much like a snake’s, laying his palm warmly over them and sliding in circuits. He thought Keith would prefer to sit on the couch, where he could lean into the cushions and pull some of the warmth from Lance’s warmer temperature.  
Moving now didn’t seem likely.  
Keith’s eyes slid half closed and he sat under the petting for a while, tail wriggling pleasantly in a moment, still otherwise.  
Eventually Keith would retract his tail and curl it around himself, tip twitching for a minute until he’d had enough. Then he looked over his shoulder, a wrinkle finding its way around his nose. Lance knew the queue he was being given but didn’t retrieve his hand, continuing to warm and smooth strokes. He had his own whims, after all. Keith glided off the chair and stepped away, walking out from under the loft and looking up at it before crouching comfortably for a moment.  
He stared at Lance hotly, pupils narrowing to black strikes across his eyes. Lance sighed, knowing he should look away and break eye contact, but this wasn’t serious enough and he rather liked looking at Keith.  
Keith’s angular face stared with an aggressive expression with his tail sweeping around to circle his body and twitch irritably. Lance knew he should either staunchly reject this behavior and tell him it wasn’t acceptable to challenge him so aggressively, or appease it and look away until he felt recognized.  
But he didn’t think Keith would act on his rude behavior, and he didn’t have the urge to look away.  
If he felt in danger near him he wouldn’t allow Keith around his house without a defensive devise strapped around his wrist, but, as it was, his wrists were bare.  
Keith’s pupils widened marginally before contracting once again quickly, echoing the movement once.  
Lance couldn’t look away from something so sharp and beautiful.  
Keith had the gall to growl at him, high in his throat to avoid deeper offense, but revealing sharper teeth.  
Lance knew it had nothing to do with where they stood, and that his coldness would perhaps be kept completely passive if he just complied with the queues Keith gave him, but he didn’t have those instincts.  
Keith did, however, and didn’t refrain from finding comfort and ease in his instincts. Those instincts sometimes withdrew him from Lance, demanding distance.  
Keith’s tail waved with more vigor his wings drew back with aggravation, probably not thinking at all about his impulses.  
Lance sighed deeply, partly due to the tiredness in his lungs after a long day, and partly in exaggeration. He leaned his cheek against his hand and looked up and away from Keith. He appreciated this and his growling lowered down in pitches before quieting. Lance looked up in time to see him unfold his wide, too wide, wings and lift his hollow bones off the ground to latch onto the railing of the loft. His tail swung down with wide fans before disappearing from view.  
Just couldn’t take the stairs.  
Lance returned to his study, wrapping up more work and giving Keith the demanded distance.  
He went to the refrigerator and found the nearly empty cup of fruit, the top thrown carelessly back inside next to the cup. Lance rolled his eyes and capped the cup, getting his own snack.  
The sun was falling down as he sat on the couch and ate, texting his family and planning his next visit with them soon. He went to the bathroom, washing his face and settling down.  
By the time he made it upstairs, Keith was curled in a tight ball on the bed. His wings arched in a gentle wrap around him, the thin fabric of flesh between hard lines of bone through his wings wrapped malleable around his body, the membrane molding to him like the fins of a fish folding around water.  
The sheets were thrown away from him, unneeded when he didn’t produce any body heat of his own. The chord that lined up from the outlet near the bed and disappeared under his form was indicative of the heating he clung to. The heating pad was warming him from beneath, giving him incentive to fall asleep.  
Lance knew he could handle his own body temperature, all avians, but also knew the comfort he took in external heat.  
Lance made it to his side of the bed, sitting down gently and laying back. He left the sheets tucked up to his thighs and opened a book lit by the lamp near him. He waited for a few minutes, reaching out to lay a gentle stroke over Keith’s back and returning his hand to his book.  
Keith lifted his head and blinked at him.  
His pupils widened considerably, inky black and warm in the low lighting. He unwound his tail from his curl, lifting his wings with a miniature flexing. Lance watched him, made drowsy by the sight of him, remembering hours spent napping alongside him, broken by his stretching legs and shiftings.  
Keith crawled to him, wasting no time in crawling over his body to situate himself comfortably. He lowered onto him seamlessly, tucking himself onto the warm belly and chest he left open, his hands held back for a moment as Keith lay over him and tucked as much of himself that he could comfortably fit onto him. His tail slid under Lance’s legs, finding warmth there.  
A deep sigh signaled his settling, Lance lowering his hands and resting them against his shoulder as he read.  
Lance found the sheets and drew them up over most of their bodies, leaving his wings free.  
He couldn’t help deep comfort with his weight pinning him here, only aiding his already close sleep.  
He didn’t forget the deep strength in his body, didn’t forget the teeth or the territorial instincts.  
That deep strength was long gone when Keith was lain against him, his teeth never pierced his skin as if finding the idea offensive and blasphemous, his instincts continued to build protective territorial guards around Lance instead of towards him.  
He couldn’t bring himself to want another warm body next to his as he kept this one warm himself, falling asleep so rapidly.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Patience yields focus._

Lance sat on the couch, with a book laying heavy over his lap. His intellect was quick, and he knew that, not everyone got into the university that he had, an understatement. However, it still required effort in the studies.   
Keith sat in the chair at the desk where Lance sat to work daily, but he faced the window instead of the desk. His feet both propped up onto the chair he sat on, against his body. The sun was rising through the window, burning, today. He sat side ways in the chair, with his tail flowing to the floor and being still for long stretches broken by restless flickers. His brow creased and he frowned lightly, watching. He watched the sun, so slow.   
Lance worried for him. He was aggressive, that was truth, but he wasn’t unhappy. He was generally peaceful. He liked the quiet. Now, he remained pensive.   
“Keith…” Lance murmured, thinking of his mother and his siblings. His aunts, uncles. Keith looked at him, directly, his pupils remaining thin.   
“What’s going on?” He asked, quite apart from the carefree jokes and laughter thrown between he and Hunk and Pidge, and Keith, too, when they would.   
“Nothing, Lance.” He looked away to the window again, he even appeared genuine. Perhaps this was a mood or mannerism he’d forgotten that avians tended to. But his wings drew in closer to his back and raised just so, he knew the desire of flight.   
“Why are you wanting to fly?” He hummed, and Keith’s tail jerked irritably at his perception.   
He was silent for so long, burning the sun against his eyes, and his pupils didn’t contract tight enough to make the burn comfortable. Keith eventually stood, his movements smooth but charged with that roughness that Lance recognized, his wings always raised a bit higher than normal.   
“Don’t worry about it,” Keith rumbled, paced towards the door and finding his jacket, which he shifted his wings through roughly. “You should go out with Hunk, or Pidge. Or Shiro. Quit studying.”   
It was true, Lance knew the course well.   
“You can tell me, you know.” He mumbled, remembering what it felt like to be a stupid child.   
Keith looked at him, his pupils tightening so narrow that most of his eyes were just low, grey color. Then they opened and his chin lowered.   
“Just missing something, at the moment.” He hummed softly, and Lance got the recollection of flying both away from the feeling on the ground and towards the far away one. Flying was wild, and strong. Godlike, when it came to Keith. That’s why he was valued in work. But, Lance remembered his own family, again, and looking at Keith now he couldn’t see the family that was missed but there, somewhere. There was nothing around Keith.   
Just blur.   
Lance hoped that he flew to somewhere that Shiro was, that maybe he could say something that would settle him.   
“You should come back home, when you’re done.” He told him, and Keith watched. “I’ll be right here.”   
He nodded before he left.   
In the night, Keith didn’t wait for the door to close behind him before flying to the loft and the bed. Lance was barely awake, barely saw him hovering on the edge of the bed. He saw him wrap his tail around himself and sit somewhere close to watch the room and the door. He knew this was an instinct, so he closed his eyes again for sleep.   
It was unclear how much was instinct and how much was heart when Keith finally crawled through the bed to curl over Lance like a snake does around a warm stone, wrapped around a clutch of eggs.  
He let his hand move sleepily through to touch his back, his fingers brushing against the silk leather of wings. And Keith’s head lay heavier against his chest, against the warmth. He felt with fortunate circumstance, that there was a part of himself that could cool parts of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is essentially little new, I know it's not much for those who want more from this little landscape. But, I figured I put it out. It's my bit. Season two has been brilliant, I love Lance. This is mostly just a mood work, no plot.

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a quick little think I wrote laying in bed, feeling like needing to do something. I know the characterization isn't regular, that was strange. It was hard to cast them, they both act like snake cats which is essentially what I've done here.  
> Hope this gives some fluffy, weird content to Keith and Lance dynamics before the new season comes out. 
> 
> My tumblr is here. https://www.tumblr.com/blog/thisshipsailsitselff


End file.
